by Brandon Chen
“How did you know?” Archerus asked Yuri.
“I saw the field within a dream that I had last night,” Yuri said with a shrug. “The location … it was somehow just engraved in my mind. It’s hard to explain.” He received an unconvinced stare from Archerus.
“Is that all?” he pressed.
“Yeah, that’s all.”
Moriaki raised an eyebrow at Yuri’s response, but said nothing.
“Perhaps the gods are on our side, then, and have given you a vision. We should not waste the information that they’ve granted us,” Zylon said, turning to the king. “But there are two issues that lie before us regarding this plan. A journey to Lichholme will be an extremely dangerous quest. I will not be there, since I must travel to southern Escalon to fight back Faelen’s forces. The other problem is how to get the Phoenix Heart’s antidote into the bloodstream of the werewolves.”
Yuri winced. Those were certainly large problems to deal with.
“If we send an elite force to travel to Lichholme, perhaps they could make it to the field and back unharmed,” the king said. “The party would have to be small enough to travel unnoticed. The horde of undead abominations that plague the land would be attracted to a large army. Whether or not the group survives is entirely up to their skill … and a lot of luck.”
Everyone in the room nodded in agreement.
“As for the second issue, Iradia does have an alliance with a small settlement of gnomes that live in Lichholme,” Lord Reimos said, getting off his throne. The king strode forward and knelt down by the map on the floor, pointing at a particular spot near the eastern mountains of Lichholme. The location that he indicated was conveniently on the way to the field of Phoenix Hearts. “If you take this path here, you’ll come across a gnomish fortress known as Etaon. There are Iradian engineers there, talented ones trained by the gnomes themselves. They’re the only engineers on Escalon capable of fixing up an invention that could inject the Phoenix Heart substance into the werewolves. We are merely assuming that they’re still alive, though. We haven’t been in contact with Etaon for a couple of months.”
“That’s better than nothing,” Moriaki said with a smile. “I believe that we’re onto something here. Who do you think should embark on this perilous quest? I wou—”
“Pardon me, Moriaki,” Zylon said. “But I would feel a bit safer if you were to come with me to the southern front to combat Faelen’s army. I don’t believe I can handle such formidable opponents alone, even with a force of Iradian soldiers as support.”
The druid nodded. “Perhaps that is for the best. If they break through the defenses, this whole quest is pointless,” he said, turning to Archerus, Noah, and Yuri. “I’m assuming that you three would like to volunteer to go to Lichholme?”
“What? I—” Noah began but sighed when he spotted a disapproving glare from his father. He shrugged sluggishly. “Yeah, I’d love to go,” he murmured.
“We have another issue. How are we going to carry thousands of Phoenix Hearts with us from Lichholme?” Archerus asked.
Noah held out his hand, his face expressionless. Clearly, he wasn’t too happy about having to journey to one of the most dangerous places in the world. A bright red light began to glow in his palm, growing until there was an evanescent flash. His hand now held a small bag made of an arcane ruby-colored substance. “My father and I have the magical ability of creation. I can make any physical object that my mind pictures, and I can give it a function,” he said, reaching into the small bag. To Archerus’s surprise, the boy pulled a sword, made of the same magical material, from the tiny bag. “This is essentially a bottomless bag that I can use to store whatever I want. I’ll be able to keep all of the Phoenix Hearts in here.”
Yuri whistled. “That’s handy.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure that going on this trek with only three people is going to end poorly,” Archerus said, folding his arms. “Who else can we bring?”
“I believe there are several skilled champions that arrived with Horux’s royal family. Perhaps we should ask if they would like to volunteer for this quest,” Lord Reimos said, waving for Yuri, Noah, and Archerus to follow him out of the throne room. “Moriaki and Zylon, I will have your soldiers meet you at Reidan’s gates tomorrow morning at sunrise. If you ride with haste, you’ll arrive at the southern peninsula before Faelen can break through Moriaki’s wards.”
Moriaki and Zylon both gave the king a bow of reverence. “Thank you, Lord Reimos,” Moriaki said. “Your assistance in this affaire will surely help maintain balance in Escalon.”
“I hope it does, druid. Best of luck to you two.”
Witness the Secret
Yuri followed King Reimos through the twisting maze-like corridors of the castle. Archerus and Noah walked beside him, with three burly knights tailing closely behind. The young man blankly watched the lord’s clanking armor, his mind wandering.
The memory of Senna shooting him on the docks of Horux flashed through his mind. There was no doubt that Senna knew that he was a werewolf. If the knight revealed his identity, things would only become complicated, and Senna was certainly here with the royal family.
Yuri exchanged glances with Archerus, who gave him a nod. Keep it a secret for now. They’ll find out when we reach Lichholme.
The boy blinked back to reality when the king opened a door, entering a large room that was expensively designed. The bed was massive, and there were extravagant pieces of furniture scattered throughout the huge chamber. Yuri followed the king into the room, his eyes widening when he spotted Terias. “T-Terias? What are you doing here?”
Terias stared at Yuri as if he were looking at a ghost. “Yuri! You’re alive?” The young man was dressed in clanking iron armor and had a giant broadsword sheathed at his side. Standing next to him was Princess Violet, and on his other side was Senna, who was already reaching for his weapon.
Yuri narrowed his eyes; his werewolf senses could spot the knight’s intentions before he’d even touched the handle of his sword. It was as if everything were moving in slow motion, as his natural instincts caused adrenaline to kick in. He saw that the soldiers behind him were beginning to react to Senna’s abrupt movements, for they also reached for their own weapons. A blur of movement flashed before Yuri and the boy watched as Archerus flitted across the room, grabbing Senna’s wrist before he was able to unsheathe his sword.
“Calm down,” Archerus commanded.
“Don’t give me orders, you insane—” Senna began, but swallowed back his words. He had no right to call Archerus crazy, not after he’d been right about the werewolf underneath Horux. The warrior bit his lower lip in frustration and darted an irate glare at Yuri. Senna squeezed the hilt of his sword so tightly that his weapon rattled, but Archerus’s superior strength prevented him from brandishing his blade. “You’ve gotten stronger since I last saw you, Archerus. Have you also become a monstrosity?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Archerus said with a cold gaze.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” Senna barked angrily.
“Senna, what’s going on?” Princess Violet demanded, puzzled by what was happening. She looked at Yuri. “I thought you said that Yuri was—”
“I shot him,” Senna insisted, releasing the handle on his sword. “Yuri was infected by a werewolf. I saw the beasts run past him. They considered him one of their own and disregarded him as a threat!”
“I wasn’t infected,” Yuri said.
“If you weren’t infected, then show me your damned chest! There’s no way that any ordinary human could take a bullet to the heart and escape a horde of werewolves!” Senna shouted, scowling when he saw Lord Reimos’s soldiers stepping forward to restrain him. He held his hands up. “I’m not lying.”
“A lot of things happened that night, Senna,” Archerus said, putting his hand on the man’s shoulder. “I understand you’re shocked that he’s still alive, but you need to calm down. We’re on you
r side. In fact, we’ve come to you requesting your help to try and retake Horux.”
“Retake Horux?” Princess Violet said. “How would you do that?”
Senna listened as Lord Reimos explained the plan to find a field of flowers. Everyone seemed diverted from Senna’s accusations, now that their attention was focused on the king and his words.
However, Senna could not tear his gaze from Yuri. Rage channeled through every part of his body, and he ground his teeth, infuriated that no one believed him. He knew what he had seen. There was no doubt in his mind that Yuri had been on the brink of transformation at the time. He’d fired a lead bullet right into Yuri’s chest. Yet … here the boy stood. Rational. Calm. Human. How was this possible?
When the king was finished explaining the plan, Senna simply nodded. “I’ll go,” he said. “I would go through Oblivion itself to reclaim Horux.”
Yuri’s eyes fluttered at the warrior’s mention of Oblivion, but he said nothing. He was surprised that Senna suddenly seemed relaxed. Only moments ago, he had been enraged. Perhaps he’d convinced himself that he had been hallucinating. He watched as the knight left the room, his eyes on the carpeted floor as he stormed away. Yuri looked at Archerus, but the man simply shrugged. He too was unsure of Senna’s mental state.
“As Senna’s apprentice, I’ll also journey to Lichholme,” Terias stated, reaching up and striking his chest. This was the salute of a dauntless soldier, not of a young man from Horux’s Lower District.
Yuri was surprised that Terias even knew Senna, and that the former thief was now dressed like a knight. What had happened in the past couple of days?
Lord Reimos nodded with approval. Senna was the most renowned knight from Horux, infamous for his expertise in swordsmanship. It was said that he could cleave three men in half with a single swing. Any man apprenticed to such a grand knight must show some promise.
Yuri had his eyebrows raised with surprise, about to protest Terias’s embarking upon such a perilous journey. But the words were locked in his throat, and he merely gaped at the soldier. There was no way that Terias had somehow managed to learn to fight in only a couple of days. How had he even managed to get an apprenticeship underneath one as renowned as Senna?
Yuri sighed. Allowing an inexperienced knight to take up a quest like this was foolish, but the king seemed willing to take up any volunteers that would attempt this near-impossible task of infiltrating Lichholme.
“I’ll go as well,” Princess Violet said.
“That, I’m afraid, is out of the question,” King Reimos said with a shake of his head. “Only those with combat experience will be allowed to go to Lichholme. Milady, I’m afraid that your chances of surviving such a journey are extremely low. No offense to you, but I believe it best if you stay here.”
“But—”
“I understand that you want to help in this time of dire need, but you can do so in other ways,” Lord Reimos said. “Raising the morale of your people is what you should focus on. In this period of desperation, Horuxian survivors will be looking for leadership. They’ll look to the king, the queen, and you. You must fulfill your role as one of their leaders and give them hope.” He watched as the princess lowered her head in understanding. Nevertheless, he could still see the distraught expression on her face.
The princess rushed past Yuri without another word and quickly fled the room, clearly upset by the king’s decision.
Yuri bit his lower lip, knowing that it was best if Violet stayed away from Lichholme. Nevertheless, Yuri felt that he should go after her. He turned to walk after Violet but was halted by a gentle hand from Archerus.
“Give her some time,” Archerus said with a pitiful visage. “The princess feels helpless. But as King Reimos said, there are other ways she can assist our people.”
She feels powerless, just as I have. Yuri relaxed his shoulders, exhaling. “What’s our plan?”
“I’ll gather a small party of my greatest warriors to travel with you to Lichholme,” Lord Reimos said. “The situation is indeed disastrous and calls for immediate attention. I think it best if you all depart tomorrow morning, if you can manage it. I understand that you’re all tired so if you must—”
“We’ll go tomorrow,” Yuri said.
The king smiled. “Good, then get some rest. I’ll have my servants lead you to your rooms, where you may bathe and get some sleep. Hopefully by morning, you’ll feel refreshed and will be ready for your trek.”
***
Faelen trudged through the forest outside of Horux, after spending several days training Tanya to adjust to her newly obtained werewolf senses. She’d been a quick learner, and Faelen was impressed with her progress.
As Junko had promised, Tanya was naturally skilled in combat. She could wield nearly every weapon that Faelen could name, but she chose to use a chain-whip, a unique weapon native to her home continent of Dastia.
Faelen had seen Tanya use the weapon one night. Her form was graceful and fluid, flowing elegantly as her chain whip sliced through the air. One false move and she could lop off her own head with the sharp blades. On one end of the chain whip was a scythe, made of abyssalite, Terrador’s hardest metal. It was also incredibly light, which allowed it to tear at her opponents with frightening speed. On the other side of the metallic chain was an ordinary blade that glowed bright red, as if it had just been dipped into a hot forge. The werewolf could see that this blade had been enchanted by several magicians, for many arcane spells twisted around the steel, making it as deadly as the abyssalite scythe. Maybe even more so, for these enhancements enabled the blade to cut through the skin of most living beings.
As Faelen watched Tanya perform her dance, slashing her chain whip in the night, he’d realized that he’d taken quite a liking to her. He enjoyed her company; it was nice to have a rational person to talk to as opposed to him barking pointlessly at the other werewolves. He only hoped that she could meet his expectations and find the Oblivion Portal.
“Do you not use a weapon yourself, Lord Faelen?” Tanya asked, walking beside him in her human form. She’d taken it upon herself to start calling him lord, for some unexplained reason. Nevertheless, Faelen did not complain. He’d thought they were partners, as Junko had said, but if she insisted on declaring him as superior, then he was fine with that.
“I have no use for a weapon,” Faelen said, holding up one of his hands to his face. He knew that his claws were probably stronger than a majority of the world’s blades, able to shred most metals apart with ease. His claw began to glow ominously as wisps of dark magic streamed from his fingertips. “But I’ve dedicated my life to search for a particular item. Have you ever heard of Sacred Treasures?”
Tanya nodded. “They’re items that are crafted by the gods. They’re extremely rare, aren’t they?”
Faelen smiled, impressed with Tanya’s knowledge. “Yes, they certainly are. Sacred Treasures have magical properties that can accomplish wonders. That is why I seek the Oblivion Portal, for within Oblivion lies a Sacred Treasure that I’ve dreamed of obtaining. With it, I’ll never have to fear being locked away again.”
“Now that you’re part of the Bounts, I imagine that you don’t have to worry about being caged,” Tanya said, flicking some dark hair from her eyes with a slight toss of her head. “Our organization has many powerful members, some of whom have already acquired a few Sacred Treasures.”
Faelen smirked, shaking his head. “I know better than to put my faith solely in others,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. He gazed at the legion of werewolves that scampered through Horux’s forest behind him. He sniffed the air. The atmosphere was filled with powerful magic that was so intense that it was almost palpable. Something is wrong.
The werewolf’s face twisted into an angrily scowl as he saw glimmering magic shining on the trees around him. He held up a hand, halting Tanya and the werewolves behind him. The beast watched as a pair of glowing viridian eyes cracked open on the trunk of one of the trees in fron
t of him. The branches snapped and crackled as the tree groaned to life, practically tearing itself from the earth, exposing massive tentacle-like roots that functioned as legs.
The moan of the tree echoed throughout the forest. Faelen soon realized that a number of other trees had also been brought to life, but they did not move. They merely stood there, blocking the path, waiting for the werewolves to come and attack.
Faelen gnarred, dropping to his hands, digging his claws into the dirt. “It would seem that the Druid of the North has set up some obstacles to keep us at bay while he goes to find help. Tanya, let’s eradicate them.”
“Yes, Lord Faelen,” Tanya said, beginning to morph into her werewolf form. She gripped her chain whip tightly, squeezing the metal links in her claws as she eyed the dozens of lumbering trees before her.
Faelen let out a boisterous howl that split the night as he dashed forward, his eyes on the prey before him. His subordinate werewolves mirrored his yowl and followed his example, striking at the trees ferociously. The beasts were much faster than the slow plants, but their slashes and bites were hardly enough to penetrate the creatures’ tough bark. Within moments, however, the werewolves had discovered that tearing off the trees’ branches caused the plants significant pain. Dozens of werewolves pounced upon each living tree, bringing the magical beings crashing to the ground underneath their weight.
Several of the silent oaks swung their thick branches downward, driving werewolves into the earth. Faelen watched as one of his companions was lifted into the air by one of the grand trees and slammed into the ground with tremendous force, shattering every bone in the creature’s body.
Faelen snarled and charged, dark energy gathering on the tips of his claws. He swiped outwards and shredded the tree’s trunk apart from a distance, using demonic magic to strike the oak with ferocity. The plant let out a shrill screech that sounded like it came from a witch, a piercing noise that greatly contrasted the grumbling groans the trees had made only moments ago.
